


Let me be your wings

by lets_get_messi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lets_get_messi/pseuds/lets_get_messi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We'll see the universe and dance on Saturn's rings. Fly with me and I will be your wings.” </p>
<p>Some nights, Dean felt like he was floating, like a bright warmth was enveloping him as he slept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let me be your wings

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Based on the song from Thumbelina “Let me be your wings.”

Some nights, Dean felt like he was floating. Like a bright warmth was enveloping him as he slept. The soft daze of sleep taking hold of him and holding him close. It was the comfort he craved desperately from his hectic life and as soon as he awoke the feeling seemed to disappear. 

Sometimes he'd drift off into sleep during the day, the lazy hum of the Impala helping him on his way as Sam drove them back late into the afternoon. The air humid and the soft warm breeze from the opened window allowing him gentle slumber. Dean hoped to feel the overwhelming feeling of purity that came with sleeping. 

Though in these types of sleep, he couldn't feel it. He only ever felt it once in a while. And only happened – seemingly – when Dean fell asleep in a bed.

It baffled him, scared him slightly, his mind stretching to the absolute limit of it perhaps being a particular demon, possessing him at night and using his body as a vessel. He snorted at that, the prospect ridiculous as he sat on the couch rubbing his eyes and letting his head fall back between his shoulder blades. He'd seen a lot of fucked up things, and that thought, dwelling, led him to believing that it didn't seem too far-fetched. 

He sighed, toying with the idea of calling Castiel down to help him and Sam with their latest predicament. He heard a rustle and opened his eyes. Cas was stood sheepishly before him. Dean blinked licking his lips.

“What is it Dean?” Cas asked voice like gravel as Dean leaned forwards, elbows on his knees as he breathed lengthily.

“We're looking for a demon.” He said. He knew it was obvious, his mind elsewhere as he watched Castiel tilt his head confusedly. “As usual.” He added as an afterthought.

Cas didn't seem entirely convinced. 

“You seem distracted Dean.” He said, his monotonous voice like gravel as Dean shut his eyes. There were few things that annoyed him about the Angel and usually his voice was not one of them. Maybe Dean was just in one of those moods.

“Yeah, sleeping has been a problem lately.” He admitted, rising from the couch and heading over toward the small kettle on the bedside table, miniature coffees; teas and sugars all placed in an off white mug.

“Oh.” Cas said, as blandly as ever, Dean flicking the switch of the kettle and eventually hearing the soft bubbling that would soon be a loud roar by the time the water boiled. He sat on his bed. “Why is this?” Cas asked edging closer to Dean, who shrugged. 

“I feel... I sometimes...” He wanted to tell Castiel about the warmth, about the overwhelming comfort that surged through his body as he slept some nights. How it intrigued and frightened him all at the same moment. How he craved the knowledge of what it was. Instead he shook his head, smile in place. “I just need a good night away from all this oncoming apocalypse business.” He chose, flicking the switch of the kettle which he had decided had boiled enough.

He didn't pour himself a drink, just let Cas' eyes rake over him as he sat, posture stiff, brow in a tight frown, a hole in the carpet suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world.

“I see.” And with a flap of wings, Cas was gone. Dean glancing up, as though to double check. He had heard the distance in Castiel's voice, heard the haunting tone, almost like he knew Dean was keeping something from him. After everything they'd been through, Castiel's guidance was never something Dean took into account.

Dean threw his pillow across the room at that. Castiel was very much aware of the boundary Dean set up emotionally, his own brother was barely on the same side as him, let alone an Angel who had barley brushed the pages of his life. He lay face down in another pillow. His agitation growing as his mind told him that he should have told Cas.

*

That night Dean was already in bed and asleep by the time Sam had gotten back. His younger brother tip-toeing around the motel room as to not wake him. Even Sam had noticed the irritation in his brother lately. He knew the stress of their “day jobs” maybe hit hard whenever Dean sat and thought about it. But then again, Sam knew Dean better than that, and knew that Dean saw his life as his last, and his philosophy of few regrets never fell on deaf ears. 

Sam knew that Dean was hiding something, and that his growing agitation was merely something that seemed out of Dean's control. Sam, freshly showered and wearing his pyjama pants low on his hips, looked down at his elder brother. He smiled at the look on Dean's face as he slept. Mouth hanging open, eyes flickering beneath shut lids, long eye-lashes casting shadow across his high cheek bone.

“Get some rest solider.” He whispered, turning to his bed and climbing in, sighing contentedly at the comfort. Soon enough, Sam's soft breathing had filled the same air as Dean's.

Dean's sheets were pooled at the bottom of his bed the more he tossed and turned, his restless slumber squeaking the bed as he was lost in a sleepy haze of discomfort. Sammy was out for the count, as the eldest brother mewled and groaned uncomfortably in his sleep.

That was until the warm. Until a glow of heat enveloped him, stilling his movements and rising him from his restlessness. Dean felt as though he was floating, a golden glow taking him in a strangle-hold of purity and leaving him feeling content and assured.

He let his eyes flicker open lazily, his body waking like it never usually did at the feeling.

Two bright blue eyes coming into focus and looking down at him alarmed. Dean's eyes bolted open in fear of what the alarm suggested. 

“Cas!” He yelled, recognizing the sapphire eyes that were a breath away from his face. Just then Castiel vanished, Dean gasping out air as he felt himself fall a short distance, colliding with his bed with a huge crash just as he had watched the eyes disappear. He groaned as he bounced on the mattress, the lamp flicking on between his and Sam's bed, his brother sitting up in shock.

“Dean!” Sam cried, whipping his bed covers off him and rushing towards his brother who waved a dismissive hand toward Sam who knelt back on his haunches, taking in the broken bed before him. Dean sat up on the mattress, lopsided due to the snapped wood of the frame.

“I'm ok, Sammy.” Dean spoke, his voice distant. He thought, his bow set in a frown as he eyed his surroundings in confusion. “Is-is Cas ok?” He asked looking up at Sam who twitched his head to the side like a child unsure of his future. 

“C-Cas?” He asked, his tone suggesting that Dean had gone insane. The eldest rolled his eyes at that. “Dude, we haven't seen Cas since this morning. He left for heaven business.” Sam said slowly, Dean glowered at his brother's tone of voice. Sam helped Dean to his feet, who looked visibly shaken, pacing toward the bathroom immediately. Sam followed him. 

He pulled the chord of the light, the bulb in the bathroom flickering until it stayed on, dimly lighting the lime green walls as Dean looked at his reflection. He turned the cold tap on, ignoring his brother's reflection who watched on worriedly as Dean threw water on his face. He gasped at the sensation.

“He was right here.” Dean sad, pointing a hand in the direction of the room they had just left, before gripping at the sink, chest heaving. Sam looked concerned. 

“Dean, I think you had nightmare and Cas was in it.” Sam said matter-of-factly leaning on the threshold of the door and watching as Dean shook his head. There's the stubborn brother he knew and loved...

“I'm telling you Sammy-” Dean said, turning on the spot and pointing at his brother. “Cas was here.” He scooted passed and Sam watched him go. 

“I know we're not kids any more, but sleep in my bed tonight. It won't kill us to share for one night.” Sam offered, smiling at his brother who nodded, his eyes racking over his destroyed bed.

“Some helluva dream, huh?” Dean said, climbing into the one side of Sam's bed as his brother did the other. He let his eyes remain on the shadows that the bed-side lamp stretched across his dishevelled bed, the snap of the wood, the slant of the mattress, the abandoned sheets. He cursed inwardly, shutting off the lamp and turning on his back to look at the street-light outsider that lit the ceiling. Sam's heavy breathing returned and Dean lay there for the rest of the night, awake and vigilant. 

*

The next few days went on like usual, the boys looking into things, turning up to places, knifing Demon's in the back and then returning to a new motel for a night of restless sleep for Dean.

He sat outside his room one night, enjoying the soft warm air of Texas as he brought a cool beer to his lips, allowing the taste to savour in his mouth before he swallowed it thickly. He finished the contents hungrily, knowing it was time to try to sleep. It seemed like some weird paradox, the only thing that ever gave him a comfortable sleep had now turned into the thing he was scared to go to sleep in case he felt but soon enough, tired eyes blurred his scenes and he just stripped down to his boxers and fell on his bed.

Sammy spark out in his own. Dean didn't even bother getting in the covers.

Eventually he began to softly doze. 

He was in a half-sleep, he was aware of his surroundings but still in a weird sleep that he had began to grow accustomed too. Constantly a hunter as he began to fear the only thing he could release from.

Then, he felt it. The warmth taking hold of him, gripping him tight, a soft wave of pleasurable energy swallowed him, took it down into the depths of it's throat and he felt as though he was flying. He opened his eyes into a squint, looking through his eye lashes at a face so close to his in the dark. 

He opened his eyes completely, and for some unknown reason. He wasn't shocked. 

Castiel looked back at him, mouth curled around a stammer of explanation that seemingly died on his tongue as Dean stared back at him. Cas' vessel’s breath skittered across his face. And then there was the warmth. He felt his arms had fallen limp, his legs in a similar state, two weights pressing at his back and it wasn't until he awoke completely that he realised that Cas was holding him as they floated over Dean's bed.

“Cas... what are you doing?” Dean asked turning his head slowly, as though scared of falling. Cas gulped, their chests pressed together as he held him tight. Dean looked at the bed beneath him, feeling as though he was having an outer-body experience. He shut his eyes again, feeling the weightlessness overcome him. Liberating him. He smiled at the feeling. 

Arms dangling, legs free.

“Cas, do you do this often?” He whispered looking back at Cas who just stared at him, head tilted. Dean looked at the wall opposite them, then. A car drove past in that moment, it's head lights shining into the motel room, revealing the shadow of Cas' outstretched wings, curling slightly at the ends to adjust to the size of the room. The sight, after all the things Dean had seen still made his breath hitch. Because if he actually thought about it. An angel was holding him.

“Only when you're having trouble sleeping.” Castiel said matter-of-factly and Dean averted his gaze back to the angel, his face contorted into a confused frown when he felt Cas tighten his grip just a fraction.

“I usually just take some night nurse.” Dean mocked, looking down at Sam's bed his brother sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware that his brother was floating above the bed beside his own. In a tight embrace by their Angel friend.

“Night... what is night nurse?” Cas asked. 

Dean stared at the face of his saviour. For that's what Castiel was, a saviour, a rose amongst thorns in a world that wasn't built for a being like him. Innocence in it's purest form. Dean let out a genuine chuckle, being weary not to wake Sam.

“So what do you usually do when I'm asleep? Nothing too weird, right?” Dean snorted, at the absurd thought that what was happening at that moment wasn't weird enough. He let his feet swing, enjoying the way floating felt, how he remained so in the small room. It was pleasant, relaxing.

“I usually just watch you as you sleep.” Cas said his voice softer than Dean had ever heard it, his large blue eyes imploringly searching for something in Dean's gaze who broke it quickly, feeling a sharp penetrating feeling begin to tap away at his wall of defence. Castiel licked his lip, tongue darting out quickly, as he blinked looking through his eyelashes at Dean. “I don't mean to make you uncomfortable Dean. But-”

“But what, Cas?” Dean asked, as he watched the noticeable bob in the Angel's throat. He felt fearful for a moment. A million things went through his brain and each word burnt into him painfully. Cas was certainly something he had never encountered before. A pure form of angelic beauty that he found a rarity and a pleasure all in the same sickening moment.

“When you are having a restless night, you always feel so still in my arms. As soon as I lift you up, you become so... Content.” He said, and Dean's breath hitched at the small circular patterns Castiel traced with a finger over Dean's shoulder blades.

“Well maybe that has something to do with the celestial being keeping me suspended.” Dean joked looking back at the floor which seemed so far away as he remained in Cas' bizarre embrace. 

“I think it's our bond.” The angel said quickly.

“What?” Dean retorted back at nearly the same speed, ignoring the voice in his head that said he was right and he had known all along.

“You sense my presence and you no longer have to call onto me for me to sense your need for me.” Cas said and Dean knew it made sense. The wall was crumbling with every soft breath that skittered across his face.

“Coincidence.” Dean said quietly. His eyes flickered down to the pout of Castiel's lips, then back up to his eyes. He allowed himself to take in every part of the Angel's features. His jawbone, his stubble, the contours of his face. Cas drifted a fraction closer. “Can you put me down please, Cas?” Dean asked in a whisper, shutting his eyes as silence washed over them. The tension in the air palpable. 

Slowly and after a considerable time, Dean felt himself being lowered, gently, smoothly like he was fragile, the most delicate thing in the world. 

He was placed on his bed, cold with neglect, and as he opened his eyes Castiel was gone. If it wasn't for the brisk flapping of feathers he would have presumed he was dreaming.

*

Dean sat by himself again, a cool breeze blowing through the empty car park ahead of him as he sat outside his room, a beer in his hand as he played with the cap in his fingers.  
He hadn't told Sam what it was. But he also slept better in knowledge of what happened. Cas and his warmth hadn't returned, and he hadn't seen or heard from the angel in a almost a week. In a sick and needy way, Dean felt betrayed. He scoffed at the idea. 

He held his head in his hands, sighing out a lengthy breath. And then, he heard it. He rose to his feet at the sound, eyes pinning the angel to his spot beneath the street-light, the soft white light casting a halo around the tips of Castiel's dark hair, eyes to the side of him. Not on Dean.

“Cas.” He said dropping his beer to the floor and stepping into the proximity of the man before him. Castiel's eyes still remained on the floor. “I didn't mean to- I guess I should have-” He kept stumbling over his words, his heart thundering out as he suddenly wished he had another beer. Or something he could use in his hands, which just spoke for him in elaborate movements. He sighed, feeling stupid.

“May I be your wings, Dean?” Castiel asked quietly, hands barely seen over his long trench coat sleeves. So Dean had noticed. He looked up at Cas inquisitively at his question.

“What?” Dean was confused.

“May you fly with me?” He offered, a hint of defeat already colouring his words as he faced Dean nervously. Dean scoffed, Castiel looking at the floor.

“Can you even do that?” He asked, turning on the spot refusing to confront that same feeling that pressed against that defensive wall, pulling it apart brick by brick, Cas standing on the other side... He began walking away, like he always did.

“Angels have no emotion.” Castiel spoke up louder than before as he watched Dean head back towards his motel room. The Winchester brother stopped, looking at the floor and breathing in deeply for support he desperately craved. Another brick... “They have never had much reason to have another accompany their flights.” Cas finished, clearing his throat. 

Dean had never heard him sound so nervous. It churned his stomach in bitterness.

“You have emotion.” Dean wanted to say it as a question but it fell out of his mouth as a statement and he tilted his head to the side, not quite looking at the Angel who he felt edge nearer to him regardless. Dean shut his eyes at that.

“I fear I must give up one of the two.” Cas said, Dean turned to him at that. He had his suspicions that this conversation was coming. “I either fall from grace entirely, remaining in this vessel...” 

“Or-” Dean interrupted, staring at Castiel with a grimace, turning to face him completely. Not wanting him to finish the sentence he urged him to complete. 

Cas breathed out softly.

“Or I give up my charge. You.” Cas said. Their eyes connected the exact moment Dean felt himself rebuilding the wall. He felt disappointment bleed into him, leaking through his skin and sending him into crashing waves amongst the unknown abyss, a life without Castiel. His rock. 

He could never ask him to hang up his wings just so they could be friends. Family. Dean, tongue in cheek, scoffed; sniffing to hide his emotion which he knew sparkled in his eyes. 

Cas noticed too. Dean stepped back, arms up as though in surrender, at his loss of the fight. 

His white flag.

Surrender.

“It's kind of a no brainer, Cas.” He said, defeated. He rubbed his hands over his face, running his fingers through his hair as he watched Cas' eyes pinning him to the spot.

“I know.” Castiel said, lunging forwards, wrapping an arm around Dean and bringing the startled man closer to him.

“Cas.” Dean breathed out. He wanted to say that he wasn't worth it. Wasn't worth Castiel practically getting his wings clipped just so he could stay on earth. 

With Dean.

Cas silenced him by stepped closer still, their noses tip to tip. 

And that's when he felt it. He shivered delightfully at the particularly familiar feeling of complete warmth enveloping him. His gaze fixated in the blue eyes of the Angel he knew so well. He let his fingers brush against the sleeve of Cas' trench-coat, their arms at their sides. Dean turned to the puddle beside him, the wind sending ripples across the once smooth surface. The street-lamp beside him casting a shadow against the blurring surface. He gasped at the reflection of the large wings that sealed the two of them in a cocoon of bleary haze. 

“I can't ask you to do that. I can't give you what you want.” Dean said, a nervousness he hadn't realised he had felt, cracking his words as Castiel encircled his arms around him tightly. 

The wall had been bulldozed, Cas stepping over the rumble and taking hold of him. Dean whimpered at the feeling. So this is what pathetic feels like.

“Let me fly with you, and it'll be everything...” Cas said, the most heart felt Dean had ever seen him. His chest rising and falling, his full rosebud mouth agape slightly as he tried to suck in courage. 

“I'm not the hero you think I am Cas. I'm not- I'm not like-”

“Stop thinking, Dean.” Castiel said their foreheads pressed together. Dean shut his eyes as he felt himself lift from the ground, his arms instinctively wrapping around the torso of the man in front of him. Dean kept his eyes open, wide as he watched them leave the spot they had once stood. 

Flight wasn't how he imagined it. Maybe he thought of the Peter Pan-esque holding his hand as they floated through the clouds. It was faster, much faster, the scene below him passing similar to the way scenery passes on a train journey, though much faster. The haze was sickening, painful almost as he felt himself travelling, yet lay immobile in a pair of strong arms. The journey reminded him of the way the countryside looked as he sped down the highway, Metallica shaking the impala as he hit the steering wheel, singing out loud. 

Holding onto Cas, the wind barley hitting them as the warmth stretched through him, coiling itself around his body, forcing him to swallow so it lit up his insides like a night in Vegas. He felt fingers threading through his hair and he looked into the eyes of Castiel who was staring into his soul.

His mind hazy, his confusion melting his logic in smithereens as he rocketed through the sky comfortable in the embrace of his saviour. He placed his lips on Cas' cheek. Stubble scratching at his lips. 

They landed then, softly. Dean's feet touching the floor and the warmth disappearing. He looked around him, they stood in a field beneath a large cherry tree, the moon shining through the pale pink leaves as Castiel had his back to him.

Boy did Dean feel stupid. 

He cursed at himself, tried to say to Cas that he was confused that he didn't mean to kiss him, that he's in a guy's vessel and Dean's not attracted to that. He felt tears of confusion prickly his eyes as he stared at the tense back of Castiel.

“Cas- buddy, I'm sorr-” He was cut off by Cas turning and lunging forwards in a speed Dean had not known of. He grunted, his back slammed against the trunk of the tree. His gasp was sucked from his mouth, Cas' lips pressed against his lips. Dean stilled, eyes bolt open as he felt the softness of the kiss. 

Kiss. 

Dean resisted, pushing at Cas's shoulders in a foolish attempt to try and throw the angel off him. It was no use, Cas' strength held on. He pulled away, forehead pressed with Dean's was equally as breathless. 

“Don't fight it Dean. You don't have to hunt for this.” Cas said, his fingers threading through the back of Dean's hair who shut his eyes at the comforting feeling. His hands still on Castiel's shoulders. “Don't fight me.” The angel whispered and Dean swore it was a plea.

He didn't understand. How something so pure, and innocent as Castiel could risk losing his wings for someone as downtrodden and bad news as Dean. It hurt him to think he could ruin Cas in a heartbeat. But as the Angel looked at him, eyes lust filled and dark through his long eye lashes. Dean didn't have the strength to fight it.

He surrendered. 

And the wall came tumbling down between them.

He held the front of Cas' trench coat, kissing him ferociously for all the times he wished he could have. Kissing him hard, their tongues lapping together in a fight for dominance. Dean's groan falling from his mouth and tumbling straight into Castiel's. Dean kissed him for all the nights he'd felt that warmth, felt the wings around him, for all the times he'd been taught it was wrong to feel this way about a man. For every kiss wasted on a woman who wasn't filling the void. 

Castiel wasn't a man, he was an angel. A pure light that deserved everything Dean could give to him. He kissed him and he didn't want to stop. He felt like they were floating, but they were very much still, Dean feeling a stirring feeling inside him, a heat pooling at his groin that terrified him and so he broke the kiss. They hurtled down to earth with rocket force and Cas stepped back, hair mussed from Dean's wondering fingers and lips swollen.

He looked pornographic.

Dean smirked as the innocence leaked out of Cas' dishevelled appearance, coyly returning Dean's smile.

“Where do we go from here, Cas?” Dean asked, breathless as he stood against the tree. Castiel said nothing, he simply stepped closer toward the Winchester brother, pink petals falling easy between them. Showering them in soft light. He knew his question was somewhat rhetorical. In the sense that it didn't need an answer because wherever they were going wasn't going to be easy. That whichever path they took from there was only going to lead them into hardship.

They locked gazes for a few moments, in one of their little staring competitions that they did so well. Eyes wide and penetrating into one another's souls. Cas placed a gentle kiss on Dean's jaw and the man looked at the Angel, his confusion in the haze of their bond written all over his face as Castiel simply shrugged.

“I don't know. But you may use my wings to get there, Dean.”


End file.
